


You’ll Never Go To Heaven With A Love Like Yours

by Ourladyofresurrection



Series: MCR Requests [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Break Up, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Heartbreak, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourladyofresurrection/pseuds/Ourladyofresurrection
Summary: Gerard and Frank share one last dance before they break each others’ hearts.





	1. YNGTHWALLY Part One

Small breaths, two heartbeats synchronizing into one, and seemingly beating twice as hard. Bare carpet-burned feet on the rug, and lovers who could not conspire against the odds, nor the rapids of life, nor the laws of ephemerality any longer. 

Dim candlelight cast shadows across the room that appeared to circumnavigate the faces of the two boys, the way the lovers were circumnavigating the fact their time together was ultimately, limited. It had always been that way; if the love was an hourglass turned over from the moment they met eyes, then let this be the final grain of sand.

Outside, a soft rain pattered down, and on their faces, star-born tears traversed down the tear ducts, all the way to the collarbone, all the way to the heart. It was as if they themselves had a climate crafted by their own two hearts, and it was always rapids after rapids. If only the sun would smile upon them, if only the world could gaze into their soul and say 'let these ones be.'

But it could never be.

And that was as sure as the clock on the wall ending it's rounds and landing on the next hour interval, as sure as the sun rising in the morning, and as passionately sure as all good things coming to an end, eventually.

Frank traced the outline of the boy's jaw; soft, and yet so resolute. The perfect metaphor for all that his soul once was, all that it is, and all that it will ever be. He had a troubled artist's heart, always loving so passionately and yet so carefully, fearful in every misstep, and petrified in the shadow of anything set in stone. 

He was as beautiful as ever, porcelain skin glowing in the soft ambience, as the moonlight met the candle's glow in a serene slow-dance to signify the end of the world, or at least the end of the world they had grown to love so deeply. His onyx coloured hair fell loosely over his face, masking slightly his ever-changing eyes that were now a brilliant sea green. He smelled of cologne and aftershave, something that was used as more of a novelty than a necessity. 

Their lips met in a passionate connection, who kissed who was an unknown, and quite frankly, unnecessary factor in the narrative. Their bodies seemed to move as one; there existed no action solely one-sided, nor any possession of advances. It simply was. They were one, and it was truly meant to be as such. Two halves in a whole, you might say, though it was more fluid than such a binary concept. They were like a particularly stubborn coffee cake, unable to split evenly into two without there being some fragmentary fallout. Without there being traces left behind.

Their lips moved in synch, heads angled to try to reach a level of intensity and deepness simply not attainable, but that didn't stop them from trying. Gerard's hand traveled to Frank's hair, tugging gently, prompting a soft moan. 

He kissed down the younger boy's neck, chapped lips against skin as he increased the suction slightly, kissing back up to his cheek, and again, his mouth.

"Gee," he murmured between kisses, "You know this doesn't have to end."

Gerard's heart fluttered at the use of the innocent nickname, but shook his head at what followed after.

"Frankie, you know we can't."

"Why not?" he whispered, on the verge of tears, voice husky from held-in sobs. He already knew the answer, but you too, would try to delay the process of losing what mattered most by selling out your pride in exchange for only a few extra moments of happiness, even if it was poisoned by looming melancholy.

"Because, sugar...you'll never go to heaven with a love like ours," he said with finality, just barely suppressing the tears that threatened to flow.

"So what?" he choked out, "I don't give a fuck!"

"Frankie—"

"I love you, Gerard Arthur Way, and I would walk through the nine circles of Hell, if I could only be by your side."

"I love you too," he whispered, as if speaking an octave higher would bring the world crashing down on top of him.

Frank sobbed in defeat, burying his face in the boy's chest. He didn't dare try to fit in another kiss, because a kiss was a promise, and they had no more promises left to give. Every stolen kiss was a burden, and made it that much harder to leave. Out of Frank's vision, Gerard felt tears roll down his cheeks, and he reluctantly pushed him away, knowing every second they spent this way added another second of finding the courage to break it off.

They didn't need to make it harder than it already was, if that was even possible.

"The world isn't ready for a love like ours," Gerard murmured.

And in a finality so strong it was almost cruel, the shadows finally set across the two boys' faces, splitting in two as Frank turned around and left, sobs carrying their way out of the room. The last words that Gerard said meant more than he could ever begin to emphasize, and yet it still fell short of the mark.

"The hardest part of this is leaving you."  
_________________________________


	2. Afterlife-YNGTHWALLY Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years after parting, Gerard and Frank reunite again, but in an entirely different realm. Will it be the same? Could their love have survived after all that time?

Gerard P.O.V:

"Huh?"

Those were the first words I had spoken in the afterlife. Monumental, I know. Given, at the time, I wasn't entirely aware that I actually was in the afterlife. Hell, I had no idea there even was an afterlife. All I knew was that a minute ago I was very dead and now there's sand beneath my feet and creeping into places where the sun doesn't shine.

The fuck's up with that?

When I imagined an afterlife, I imagined what any Christian-raised boy would. Fluffy clouds and blindingly white surroundings, an angels' chorus and some Jesus dude welcoming you, or side-eying you. Who knows? Maybe Jee was a shifty man. What I certainly wasn't expecting was...this.

It took me a moment to realize, but the resemblance was uncanny. 

I was sure of it, I was in one of the many surrounding, desolate areas outside of Battery City. I was in the world of my comic book, The Fabulous Killjoys.

Sure enough, I looked the part. The blue jacket, white jeans, (which I now realize was not the most practical choice of pants to be wearing in the middle of a desert on the run from a corporation bigger than myself), and when I caught glimpse of myself in a large, dusty piece of shrapnel embedded into the sand, I had my iconic red hair.

I was Party Poison. 

Hell yeah.

Other than the typical Christian daydream, my other interpretation of the afterlife was that once you died, you could live on in a world or a memory or a creation that was centric around your greatest desires. A chance to fulfil what you never got to do in the past life in a scenario that was much more suited to your fantasies. It was always a nice thought.

My pondering was interrupted by a voice. More specifically, the voice of a young girl.

"Party! Party, is that you?" she called, running up to me, out of breath.

It was The Girl. Wow, she was even younger than I remembered, fifteen at oldest.

"I—"

"There's no time to speak!" she urged, looking around for something, someone, "We need to leave, they're coming!"

I gave her a questioning look, "They?"

She looked at me as if I'd sprouted a kraken tentacle from my left eyeball, "The Draculoids."

________*Time Skip*_________

5 years had passed, and the same question that I'd had from the moment I arrived here remained dutifully buried deep into my psyche.

"Where is Fun Ghoul?"

The Girl didn't even bat an eye, just sighed deeply, kicking a rock from under her foot, "Party, we've gone over this a million times."

I frowned at the sand, and I imagine if it had a face, it'd be giving me a look saying "The hell's the problem with you?" I already knew the answer because I'd heard it or a variation of it 1825 times, though that's assuming I've only asked it once a day since I set foot here. The extra several hundred or thousands were subtracted from the narrative for the sake of sparing my pride.

The Girl just went through it again, pitying me, surely, "Ghoul can't appear here until he's dead. So until then—and don't ask me when that is because I don't know— Ghoul won't show up."

The following question that stumbled out of my mouth was less prevalent as the other, as I'd only gotten the courage to ask it after the first 52 days, but it nevertheless made up for it's rarity with the stomach-churning effect it had on me.

"What if he doesn't...show up?" I had asked her.

"What, ever?"

"Well..." I stopped walking, digging a hole in the sand with my boot, "You said that people go to the place they want to most after they die...What if this isn't it?"

She had recoiled at my sudden vulnerability and the fact she wasn't prepared to answer such a curveball after the string of the same simple question every single day.

"Hey. He's going to show up." she assured me, though I couldn't gauge whether or not it was more of a sentiment than something she actually believed. The Girl was always good like that.

And she had said the same thing to me, albeit more annoyed as I asked her for the 75th time. 

"Party, answer me something," she demanded from our now crouched position as we staked out the scene for any enemies, hiding behind a bush.

"Mmmhmm?" I responded, zooming in with my binoculars.

"Are you in love with Ghoul?"

My binoculars fell to the ground with a soft clang, prompting dust to rise up into my eyes, "Shit!" I coughed.

I wasn't expecting that question.

"Why would you even ask that?" I hacked, grains of sand comedically firing out of my mouth. 

She didn't hesitate to respond, meaning she'd been thinking about this for awhile, which didn't do anything to aid my embarrassment, or my futile attempts to conceal it.

"Well, he's your best friend, so of course you care about him. But it seems like you miss him a lot more than...normal. I mean, you've asked about Kobra and Jet significantly less..."

That was true. I'd only asked about Kobra and Jet respectively 32 and 29 times, and that was more to throw The Girl off my track anyway.

"Okay, but that doesn't mean— I just.... I—" 

"You love him," she finished.

"That's none of your goddamn business," I growled.

She hardly got a chance to roll her eyes before gunshots rang out.

"Party, look!"

A Draculoid was running full force towards a boy with a gun in his hands. He was of slightly small stature, with choppy black hair and a black and yellow jacket.

"Ghoul!" I shouted.

That was a mistake. 

The Draculoid came running towards me and The Girl full force.

"Look what you've done!" She hissed, taking her gun out of it's holster. 

Welp. No time for regrets. I rolled away from the bush, shooting furiously at the Draculoid.

"Take that, bitch!"

The bullets only seemed to anger it, and it kicked up dust, lunging forward, knocking me to the ground.

"S-shit," I muttered, fruitlessly attempting to push it off me. It hissed, lunging toward my neck...then dropping dead on my chest. Standing at my feet was Ghoul, gun still smoking in his hand, a slightly pissed look on his face.

"Ghoul?"

He nodded once, turning the firearm over in his hands, "Party. It's been awhile."

He acted nonchalant, but I could see a glimmer in his eyes that resembled tears. He couldn't hide from me. I knew him like nothing else, and he very well knew that.

"Are you guys going to just sit there all day in the dust staring at each other, because I'm ready to go home," The Girl interjected.

"Home?" Ghoul questioned.

Home.

I nodded, "The Nest."

___________________________

After refreshing Ghoul's memory of The Nest, we took off in the direction of our car. Halfway through our traipse, The Girl nodded to me, pulling me aside. Ghoul either didn't notice or didn't care, and so he kept walking, but at a slower pace as if he was straining to hear the conversation.

The Girl must have noticed this because she lowered her voice to a whisper. Like I said, she was smart like that.

"You do realize you're totally looking at him all in love, right?"

I let out an exasperated sigh, prompting Ghoul to look back at me. I smiled, saluting him with two fingers.

The fuck was that about? Maybe The Girl is right; I've lost my damn mind around him.

"I thought we already talked about this," I hissed.

She smiled, amused, "That was before you started looking at him like he hung the stars and the moon and then french kissed you under them."

I choked, turning red with what I hoped The Girl would interpret as anger rather than embarrassment, "Watch it!" 

She shrugged, "Alright," she dropped her voice lower, "Just...Party? Try to keep it in your pants...or at least until I'm out of earshot."

With a wink and a triumphant grin, she was gone, but my problems were so very far from that.

______________________________

3rd Person P.O.V:

The roads were bumpy and gravelly and every jolt made Ghoul grip the steering wheel tighter. Party had offered to drive, but Ghoul insisted on it. He was rather stubborn lately, but then again, he had always been stubborn, especially when it came to Party.

At long last, they arrived at The Nest. It was essentially a house in a clearing of land where renegades could hang out. It always reeked of beer and teenagers and was anything but homey to Party, but it was all they had, and it meant a lot to The Girl. And so it became everything.

Ghoul still gripped the steering wheel tightly as the car came to a holt. 

"Alright, kid. Hop out," he instructed.

At first, Party thought he was referring to him, so he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over to open the door, before Ghoul stopped him, rolling his eyes.

"Not you," he pointed at The Girl, "Her."

She looked offended, "Me? Why me?" 

Ghoul didn't bat an eye, "Because if you don't, I'll drive off and you won't get to see that boy you like."

She spluttered, taken aback, "Fine! Wouldn't want to intrude on your make-out session anyway!" 

She slammed the car door, stalking off toward the cabin. Ghoul rolled the window down, "Hey! No drinking, you hear me?"

She just continued to walk away, prompting a sigh from the two boys.

"Teenagers."

Ghoul nodded in agreement, rubbing his face with his hand, "Teenagers."

Party frowned, "She's growing up so fast..."

Ghoul shook his head, "Our little girl..."

Party leaned back in his seat, an amused look on his face, "Hey, how did you know there was a boy? I've been with her for 5 years and never caught mention of any guy."

Ghoul scoffed, "She's a teenager, there's definitely a guy, or a girl. But considering she's wearing a men's jacket that most definitely is not her's, I went off on a whim."

Party laughed, "God, you really are daddy material."

Ghoul shot him a cross-examining look.

"No, not like that!" he blushed. His carelessness was starting to become quite the problem.

"I wouldn't be so sure of yourself, Party." Ghoul smirked.

Fuck. Speaking of problems...

"Ghoul, look. I'm sorry about what happened all those years ago. I had Lind-Z and you had Jamia and—"

"Shut up," he muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt and pushing Party into the backseat in one swift motion. He straddled his hips, pushing his head against the leather as he joined their lips in a rough kiss. His chapped lips and cold snakebite piercing rubbed against Party's mouth and he moaned, not having kissed anyone in God...how long had it been? Seven years? Eight? Too long.

Ghoul spoke between kisses, which was a rather ineffective method according to Party's brain, but his dick seemed to think otherwise.

"Do you have any idea," he growled huskily, kissing him once again, "How much," kiss, "How long I've waited," kiss, "To have you," kiss, "All to myself?"

He exhaled sharply, "We could have been together," kiss, "But you insisted that was the wrong thing to do," kiss.

He pulled Party's red hair, prompting a breathy moan to escape his lips.

He leaned down, ghosting his lips over the boy's, "Tell me, Party, what's so bad about being wrong?"

He bucked his hips down against Party's, causing him to gasp in pleasure and squirm under his body.

"Hmmm?" he repeated.

He grinded down roughly, "Make some noise, killjoy." 

Party let out a series of moans correspondent to the now-calculated periodic movement of Ghoul's hips against his own, "Shut up and just...touch me, dammit!" He gasped.

Ghoul stopped short, refusing to move on top on his lap, causing a painful lack of friction, "I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders."

Party groaned, very uncomfortable and bothered, "I'm sorry," he breathed, "I love you."

For an awful moment, Party didn't think he was going to resume, but as it turned out, he was paralyzed with shock, no longer trying to be a tease. It dawned on them both that it was the first time Party had ever said those words to Ghoul, or the other way around. It always seemed like too much of a commitment, too much of a promise. But now...

Ghoul leaned down, planting a soft kiss on his lips, before pulling at his own shirt, taking it off, and Party's shirt following. He leaned back in, kissing along the boy's collarbone and neck, stopping right below his ear.

The kiss switched from sweet to passionate as he bit down slightly, grazing his teeth down on the skin as he sucked harshly.

"Ah! Ghoul!" he breathed, "You shouldn't leave a mark, it'll be hard to cover up."

Ghoul only bit down harder at this, "You made a mark on me, Party. A mark in my heart. A mark that'll never go away. It's only fair I get to make a mark on you too."

He gasped his eyes fluttering shut, "You already have. I asked about you, you know. Every single day for five years, Ghoul. Five years. And all 50 years before that we were apart, not a day went by when I didn't miss you...a day where I didn't think of you."

Ghoul inhaled sharply, surprised at the sudden burst of honesty and affection. It was unlike Gerard to be so forward with his feelings, but Party seemed to be brutally honest, if a bit flustered at times.

Party took advantage of his awestruck state to flip him over, hovering over top of him. He grinded down against his hips harshly, a loud moan emitted from Ghoul's lips. Party stopped for a moment, hardly concealing his laughter.

"Ahem, sorry about that," Ghoul blushed, his voice deepened from the intensity of the kiss.

Party laughed at his expression and how wild his hair was, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, "I thought it was very cute."

"I'm not cu—ah!" Party cut him off mid-sentence, his hand trailing above a certain area on Ghoul's black jeans.

"You were saying?" Party hummed.

"Unghhh, babe, we should really go." 

"Go where, love? We've got absolutely nowhere else to be. You really wanna go into that drunk house? If I had wanted a frat party, I would be making out with some really hot guy in my car...oh wait."

Party grinned down at him and Ghoul shook his head, a blush creeping up his face, "You're ridiculous."

"No, I'm Party Poison!" He teased.

"Fuck you."

"Alright, I'm down for it."

Ghoul laughed, "You know that's not what I meant."

Party raised one eyebrow playfully, "Oh I think that's exactly what you meant."

"Party, I am not going to fourth base with you in this shitty car."

"Oh, so you'd go to three?"

"Not with that shitty attitude."

"Hey!"

Party reached down and tickled Ghoul playfully, prompting a squeal from him.

"I see you're just as ticklish as before," he laughed.

"Oh, shush."

"Make me."

Ghoul reached up and tickled Party, prompting him to jerk away, and in the process, lose his balance and fall flat on top of the boy.

"Ow!"

"Hey, you tickled me so don't act all surprised!"

"You idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

Ghoul sighed contentedly. Finally, Party was his. He didn't have to share him for once in his life. It was fantastic and he was sure he'd never get tired of hearing Party being described as 'his'. Maybe it was just an effect of the honeymoon phase, but the honeymoon phase has been going strong for 60 years for Ghoul. 

"Come on, let's go get our girl," Party grinned, pulling Ghoul up from under him and tossing him his shirt.

The Girl really felt like their daughter in a way, and little did they know, she thought of them as her father figures. It was a sweet arrangement.

And as they walked hand in hand into The Nest, they smiled knowing they had all the time in the world, and they intended to spend every minute of it together.

The end!

(Maybe)

**Author's Note:**

> There is a second part which has a happy ending. Only read the first part if you want a sad ending, or read both for fluff. <3


End file.
